Five Things about House and Thirteen
by Proteus Unbound
Summary: Five things about House and Thirteen. House/Thirteen, established-ish


Five Things about House and Thirteen

Five Things about House and Thirteen

1.

Words gets out that they're dating/sleeping together/screwing like bunnies—

(definition varies on how much House has pissed them off this week)

--hospital opinion diverge. Nearly everyone is either shocked that a) House actually has the capacity for another person in his soul, b) she would even consider him, or c) the fact that they're _not shocked_. Pedophilia jokes run rampant (he _is_ almost twice her age), and their relationship-thing becomes somehow synonymous with crash and burn overnight, despite the surprising lack of drama.

The betting pools, by the way, go berserk.

Hissy fits are the latest fashion. Most of them have money on Cameron and Thirteen duking it out on the cafeteria, a couple of them on Cuddy and Thirteen. People tend to split evenly on who will actually reveal a long and undying affection for House, though Chase is the most popular choice by a slight margin. None of them, of course, bets on Wilson. That would be cruel, he had just lost a girlfriend, there was _no way_.

(Half of them think it anyway.)

And just a _few _of them (the ones too righteous to bet, of course), hope that with a new sex toy/Rubik's cube/significant other, House might be on a shorter leash than before.

_Those_ people are sorely disappointed. Who's ever heard of a subordinate putting her _boss_ on a shorter leash?

2.

They don't call each other by their first names, much.

At work, of course, the habit of using last names/House-isms is ingrained, but even when they're not under public scrutiny—

--saying Remy and Greg just didn't have that ring to it, you know?

Thirteen just uses Greg whenever she wants to annoy, to great effect. House simply ignores the fact that she even has a name beyond a number (must be a birth defect, he had explained to Wilson).

She had always been Thirteen to him, and that was never going to change.

3.

When asked about his opinion (and he gets asked a lot, these days), Wilson says, truthfully, that he doesn't know.

Which, he supposes, is rather disloyal of him. According to House, Thirteen doesn't have any friends, so his opinion is the most important one.

But he really _doesn't_.

Part of him wants more. He had pictured House in a relationship to be more, well, _dramatic_. He didn't figure that whoever it was would be _fine _with Vicodin, would be fine with skating with ethics, would be fine with misanthropy.

(He didn't figure that House would listen to his advice for once, either. Things change, apparently.)

Part of him believes the general public, and thinks that they're crazy, and that crash and burn was inevitable, no matter how spectacular the sex might be (and according to House's unabridged, blow-by-blow version, it's pretty fantastic).

Part of him thinks, rather wistfully, that the only person who might have suited House better personality-wise would have been Amber.

And the last part (the biggest) just _really_ wishes that they would stop using his office as a rendezvous point.

4.

They're on borrowed time, both of them.

It was a race, they had decided in the beginning, a race to see who would die first. The odds were quite even, what with her genetics and his liver, leg, and plain old age. Self-destruction wasn't fair, but Vicodin is (and always will be) the exception.

House had once joked that they ought to just euthanise each other, and get it over with.

It was a joke that neither of them laughed at.

5.

Once or twice—

Sometimes—

Or all the time, on some days—

They look at this relationship, and then at who they are, and they just laugh at how stupid, how incredibly _insane_ they both must be.

Because House is—well, House. A misanthrope addicted to Vicodin, unorthodox, insulting, self-obsessed—he would have made the fairy godmother cry. And Thirteen's really no better. All their problems could fill the Library of Congress, and that doesn't even include their mommy and daddy issues and messed up histories.

This thing, whatever they have, is truly fucked-up beyond imagination.

But unsurprisingly, because of who they are, at the end of the day, they don't really care.

Maybe they don't even care about each other. Maybe they're just using each other for sex. Maybe, just _maybe_, the thing they have is exceptionally idiotic.

Wasn't that how the story goes, though?

Boy and girl live stupidly ever after.


End file.
